


Second Chances

by norcumi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Language, GFY, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, and then somehow developed plot, it started with rediscovery, nothing more aggressive than mild cuddles, technically in the Rebels era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: Fifteen years after the Republic fell, Rex travels to a remote dustball to learn the intricacies of water farming from some brazen coot who's calling themself Kenobi.Sometimes, time and luck can overcome rank and protocol, and something new can be built.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perspicacia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perspicacia/gifts).



> Written for Perspicacia, this could not have been completed without the help and support of Dogmatix, AceApples, MoreCivilizedAge, and TheOtherGuysRide (who found a way to make things work when halfway through I thought I'd broken a thing that I couldn't fix).

He was tired of deserts. Rex glared around the Wastes stretching before him, a part of him wishing he were anywhere but in a desert, a part of him wishing he were back on Seelos.

For all that he disliked deserts, Rex was a man of duty enough to _always_ want to be back at Seelos. Still, that was the same reason he was on Tatooine. No one he knew on Seelos had any idea how to farm water – and that was still a damned strange notion, farming water – but it was apparently a thing on this planet. Rex had gotten contact information, some obscure Rebel sympathizer that was willing to do the occasional contract work – low risk, civilian work only. Rex had parted ways with the Ghost crew for a time, glad that Fulcrum still had a hand in their work.

He still felt damned conflicted about that, too. Ahsoka had been a Jedi. The fact that she’d _left_ the Jedi meant she had escaped Order 66 as well, but it also meant she wasn’t anywhere in his mental hierarchy. At least now he knew she was alive, had some notion on how to get word to her if need be.

Rex shook his head and kicked the speeder into gear. He had a contact to meet, and lessons in water farming to take. He still wasn’t sure what he thought of being told to contact Crazy Ben Kenobi, out on the edge of the Jundland Wastes. Ballsy; naming yourself after one of the most hated men in the Empire. Arrogant, taking on the name of one of the greatest generals who’d ever lived.

Rex both couldn’t wait to meet the water farmer who had that sort of aspirations, and didn’t want to be within the same system as that sort of egomaniac.

* * *

The egomaniac turned out to live in a hovel which was snugged up against a cliff face. When Rex hit the brakes on the speeder, it was because a figure came around a rock outcropping, blasterrifle at the ready. Like Rex, the figure was in form concealing robes with a set of goggles and a face wrap to keep the sand out.

“Hello there,” the figure called out in a voice cracked with sand and disuse. “What do you want?”

The voice was probably male, with a flat mid-Rim accent quite like the one Rex had adopted for the mission. Rex made sure his hands were clearly visible on the speeder’s yoke. “I’m looking for Crazy Kenobi.”

The figure scoffed. “Any being would be crazy to live out here.”

Rex shrugged, body language casual as he could make it. “Well, all I know is Fulcrum sent me.”

“That might be the crux of our problem, then.” Rex grinned a little in spite of himself, because it was still one of the more ridiculous call and response sets he’d run across. It was refreshing, not to mention there was damned little to smile about anymore. “How is he?”

“Pretty good for a dead man.” _That_ was the part of the exchange that made Rex cringe inside, but he was pretty sure it didn’t show. Either way, they both passed the exchange. ‘Kenobi’ raised his blaster, setting the safety back on.

“So you’re my new student?”

“Yeah.”

“What do I call you?”

“Torrent.” It was the standard call sign for any of his brothers from his old company, for all that it hurt. It gave ‘Kenobi’ a small pause before he resettled his rifle over his shoulder.

“Well, congratulations then, Torrent, your first lesson is going to be in the field, so to speak. There’s a sandstorm coming in and you and I need to see to the vaporators before it gets here.”

There was no time for idle chit-chat as ‘Kenobi’ led him around to several clunky machines, showing Rex what he was doing rather than telling him things. Given the time constraints, that made sense. He could ask questions later, go into an actual lesson with some understanding of what he was going to be seeing and learning. His new teacher moved with an efficiency that Rex admired, keeping up a swift enough pace while contorting at strange angles so that Rex could have a semi-decent view.

The wind had picked up to a dust-bearing snarl by the time they ducked into the hovel, the door grinding shut behind them. ‘Kenobi’ took the lead, blocking the other side of entry room to slap sand out of his robes. “Get clear what you can, please.”

Rex ditched the headwrap, only removing his goggles once that was as clean of sand as it was going to be this decade. As Rex was shaking out his clothes, ‘Kenobi’ shot him a look. “So, Torrent, how long have you been de-chipped?”

Rex froze for a moment. “Since we lost the war.” He pulled back a little, not quite pressing himself against the closed door. “Not too many people know about that.”

“Common enough intelligence for those of us allied against the Empire,” the man said, turning to hang his robe on one of the several hooks set in the wall. His voice softened to a gentler rasp out of the wind, and with it came a hint of accent. “Just in case we run across a deserter.” With each word, his accent drifted from mid-Rim closer and closer to the Core. “Or worse, a brother who’s not de-chipped.”

Something was trying to claw its way up out of Rex’s throat, and he could not have looked away from the man hanging up headwrap and goggles for all the credits in the galaxy. He knew that voice. It could not be. Never mind no one being that ballsy, there was no way that –

The man who turned to give him a droll look was far more weathered than Rex would have expected, his hair bleached somewhere between white and pale gray. Same beard, same tired lines across the face for all that they were now deep and sad with no hints of the amusement that used to be so common. His eyes were a tired pale blue, looking washed out in the dimly lit hovel.

“General,” Rex whispered, somehow keeping a flood of emotion down to just one word.

Kenobi grinned, a faint wry quirk of the lips that was heartbreakingly familiar. “Not any more, Torrent.”

Rex let out a soft huff, too many emotions swirling around for him to know if it was some kind of laugh or a sob. “I thought you had to be dead.”

Cody had been so sure, for all that he’d fought against the chip as best he could – given the personal attention the Emperor had paid to him. Single shot, single misaligned cannon. Starfighter and a shuttle left for an escape, if Kenobi had survived the fall.

Not a whisper across the galaxy, not for over a decade. Even Ahsoka didn’t know if he’d lived.

Kenobi sighed, giving his robes a last absentminded shake before he stepped inside the small dwelling. He groaned as he sat down. “No, no such luck. I’m afraid I’ve just been busy with some tasks I can’t trust to anyone else.”

Of course. Of fucking course Obi-Wan Kenobi would find impossible things to do after the world ended, and keep at it even when there was little left to do but howl protest against the Imperial storm.

Then Kenobi looked over at him, and Rex’s heart turned over again. This was still the Negotiator, the High General, and Rex was being _studied_. “Forgive me, but it’s been a few years and your shields are superb. Were you part of the 212?”

For a moment all he could do was stare blankly. Then Rex let out a sound that this time was close to a chuckle. He scrubbed a hand over his several days growth of beard. Soon after things went to shit he’d taken the time to properly defoliate his scalp – it was dangerous enough to be a clone, and the blond was too recognizable. 

His trip to Tatooine had been by standard freighter with minimal facilities – no opportunity to take the trimmers to his face, and he was just scruffy enough that any distinguishing scars were covered up. 

Kenobi had no idea who he was. For a moment, Rex considered flat out lying – yes, this might be Kenobi, this was one of the _Councilors_ but gods, he’d been active the whole damn time who _knew_ how he might be compromised and Rex’s secrets had so many lives on the line– 

As much as Rex was tempted to play it safe – paranoid – and pretend he was just an ordinary brother named Torrent, this was _Kenobi_. Once upon a time, he would have followed that man anywhere, into any battle. 

Rex – and the universe – hadn’t changed _that_ much.

It hurt, how natural and easy it was to pull himself to attention. “CT-7567. Good to see you again, sir.”

Kenobi’s jaw dropped and he jolted upright, rising to his feet with a surety he hadn’t had when sitting down. “Captain Rex?”

He’d been almost positive that Kenobi would pass that little test, but ‘almost’ hadn’t been ‘certain.’ Rex relaxed, allowing himself a smile. “Just Rex is fine, sir.”

A peculiar grin flickered across Kenobi’s face. “Ben, please. It’s not as if I hold any rank, either.” 

Ah. Well. That wasn’t entirely true for Rex, but that wasn’t something he could get into. So he put that aside and walked into Kenobi’s home. 

It was strange, how even after fifteen years they could still fall in sync so easily. There was no need for conversation as they set up food and tea, and the silence was comfortable by the time they’d finished eating. 

Ben was the one to break that, of course. “Have you been with the Rebellion long?”

Rex had had enough time to work through the likely questions, and settle on the most reasonable answers. “Off and on. I’m working with a few brothers who have a base on a desert planet. We’ve made do so far, but we really need a better way to get water.”

Ben nodded, studying his mug of tea. There was just enough time for the silence to settle back in before he asked a question Rex had been dreading. “Is Commander Cody one of them?”

“Yes.” It hurt, how that made Kenobi go still. He had to take a few deep breaths, eyes closed, before he drank some tea. Ben looked remarkably composed by the time he did that.

“If...you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate it if you could pass along my thanks.”

Rex relaxed a hair, relieved that Kenobi _knew_ , and understood that Cody had done what very little he could. “He’ll be glad to hear you’re alive.”

‘Glad.’ Hah! It would probably take several reminders of their mission, of Cody’s place at the head of everything to keep him from immediately going to his general – not that anyone would blame him. But Rex couldn’t do it on his own, he knew that. Cody was the one who knew the ins and outs of the larger planning, was the one with the big picture in his head. He might have ‘only’ been the marshal commander, but that had once been a rank higher than several generals. He sure as hell used to know what he was doing more than some Jedi.

“So what _are_ you doing, if not out in the field for the rebellion?”

Rex desperately wanted to tell Kenobi, to confess to the insane plan built up in the madness that ended the Clone Wars. How he and Cody had ended up with a band of soldiers, either stubborn enough or twisty minded enough to fight off their control chips. How many of them had grabbed their fallen Jedi, ignoring how wounds were only almost fatal, or convincing themselves that taking the traitors in for questioning was more important than just bringing back corpses.

How several brothers had been smart enough to grab cryo pods, or how a few desperate Coruscanti guards had stuffed padawans into carbonite chambers. Jedi that were kept stunned or drugged in spite of the dangers to longer term sedation.

They’d gone to Saleucami first, on Rex’s suggestion. Found an isolated cavern complex, popped the remaining injured Jedi into stasis of one sort or another. Plo Koon had somehow managed to be revived four different times before he’d gone into carbonite, Wolffe having personally escorted his general back from death at least once.

It’d been a nightmare, but they’d recovered. They’d played it smart, given the Empire time to settle into comfortable complacency while they gathered medical equipment, munitions, intel.

It had been almost five years before they tried reviving a Jedi. Picked at random, the young knight had come out of a stasis pod mostly healthy, but it turned out that Jedi needed somewhat more specialized equipment from long freezes. Poor bastard had died, still unconscious.

It had taken another year and change before the medics had deemed their facilities sufficient to try again.

General Windu had won that lottery pick, and Commander Fox had watched closely as the Jedi he’d rescued was thawed. Poor bastard was half delusional, but not braindead when they tossed him into a specialty bacta dip.

He went from faint twitches to thrashing, _screaming_ mentally a day later. Cody and Rex had dithered, then started precautionary defensive measures.

That was _all_ that had saved any lives a day later. The Jedi were either stored in scattered locations or on ships. The clones were stationed around the facility in a defensive perimeter, on constant patrol.

They’d still lost almost half the Jedi and two-thirds of their own when Vader came down on their heads. The sure way he charged in, going right for Windu – he had to be tracking the now-conscious Jedi.

The survivors had fled, tried to regroup. They’d remained on the run for over a year, Vader close on their heels the entire time. More Jedi and brothers were lost, even as they managed to pick up some other clones along the way.

Rex had never figured out if Vader lost interest, thought he got all the stragglers, or if he was just called to heel. One way or another, they’d realized that while they were still running, they were no longer being chased.

They’d regrouped on Seelos, where an old decommissioned Sep factory was located deep underneath the desert. Now, instead of producing clankers it was to be their new home.

They were cautious, so fucking paranoid since no one was certain why Vader had stopped. They left their precious charges deep in the factory, behind several false walls and floors and as many booby traps as they could finagle. A rotating guard patrolled on a few AT-TEs they could muster, while the rest went mercenary. Fucking bounty hunters, all to rebuild.

It was only in the last year that they’d regrouped in truth, having finally gotten together a decent fraction of the medical equipment they’d had on Saleucami. Kix was pretty sure it was enough, if they could figure out how to avoid Vader’s notice.

Vader, who had more than once been heard demanding to know where Kenobi was.

Rex desperately wanted to tell Kenobi that he could confirm other Jedi were alive – in a sense – but he had no idea what Ben’s status was. “Trying to keep everyone safe,” he temporized, not able to lie, but not quite able to trust, no matter how much he wanted to. Not with this many lives on the line.

It was enough. Ben nodded, switching the conversation back to vaporators and how local sandstorms screwed them up. It wasn’t the sort of conversation Rex was used to having with the General, but it brought back good memories of space travel, time between systems and battles when the brass was stuck together in the Officer’s lounge – not that it was anything as swank as it sounded – swapping observations and tall tales because everyone was just that bored.

Force, he missed that.

The wind was still scouring the hut’s exterior by the time they were yawning – it didn’t take long, really. Ben apologized a ridiculous amount for the lack of accommodations, as if he could somehow have stashed another bed in the pretty cramped environment. Rex waved him off, perfectly fine with a pallet across the room. He’d had far worse over the years, and it wasn’t like he’d let himself go soft.

He did have to wonder if Kenobi would have been quite so apologetic if it hadn’t been Rex. He couldn’t stop a small bloom of pleasure as he pulled the old blanket closer around him. For all that it was a bit on the threadbare side, it was more than sufficient in the warm little hut. He couldn’t decide if Kenobi was trying to undergo some kind of penance with the minimalist approach, or if he just couldn’t mange to scrounge up better quality.

That sobered Rex up right away. He could see it going either way, given how much Kenobi had always had the wrong notion of his own worth. It had been one of many injustices that had rankled during the war, perhaps minor in the grand scheme of things, but...

But. Darkness broken only by the muted susurration of wind and sand, or the quiet background hum of electronics, left far too much room to remember. The General had always done his best to fade into the background and keep people at arm’s length. It worked for the most part, though Skywalker had had the best luck in derailing those shenanigans. Rex had had an... _interest_ in matters – no, he was too damn old to dance around things like that. He had to call it what it was.

He’d had such a ridiculous crush on General Kenobi, along with a keen awareness of how impossible it would ever be to do anything about it. There was too much a power imbalance. The differences between General and Captain, Jedi and clone were just too wide.

 _After the war_. It had been a mantra, whispered in his mind on dark nights like this. After the war, when the Jedi led them to a victory and he and his brothers could figure out what there might be to life beyond fighting and dying. 

None of that had taken into account the Emperor, or Vader, or life as nomadic bounty hunters trying to keep some almost dead Jedi both alive and hidden.

A traitorous little notion popped up, pointing out that most, if not all of those obstacles were gone now. Rex tried to squash it, but wasn’t having much luck when a particularly harsh gust of wind rattled the hut. There was a faint whine, then the ubiquitous lights of household machinery blinked off. The silence thundered through the place like the wind had dragged it in, along with the chill of the desert night. 

There was just enough time for things to feel awkward when Kenobi sighed. “Force fucking dammit.”

He tried for dry. “That’s not normal, then?”

That earned Rex a chuckle that sounded wry, but honest. “Well, if you mean is that supposed to happen, correct, it’s not normal. If you mean does that happen often – yes, gods take it, that’s normal.” Kenobi sighed. “Sand in the generator. I’d clean it out now, except within ten minutes we’ll have to do it all over again.”

Not tonight, then.

Rex couldn’t quite stop a faint shiver as another draft moaned its way across the floor. Trust a Jedi to notice that somehow, in the pitch dark with the outdoors providing plenty of white noise. Rex could tell from the change in the silence, then Kenobi had to go and break him a little.

“If you don’t mind close quarters, I expect it’d be warmer to share.”

Rex flushed in spite of himself. “I’ve been accused of being part octopus,” he warned, words spilling out before he could come up with a reasonable, polite refusal.

“It’s _cold_ ,” Kenobi said dryly. “Sharing body warmth is rather the point.”

Any being but Kenobi, and Rex would’ve wondered about mind reading and mechanical sabotage. Since it was Kenobi, it was more likely the usual run of luck and understanding of how people worked.

Rex stood up, biting back several of the sarcastic comments he would have tossed at any brother in this kind of situation. He didn’t want to send the wrong message, to even imply something untoward about the situation. Most importantly, he didn’t want Kenobi to get the notion that this was something Rex was uncomfortable with or didn’t want.

Kenobi had scooted over as far as possible by the time Rex reached the bed. There was enough room for them both, and the set of blankets felt far warmer than just the one. For all that, he could feel tiny tremors from the man next to him.

Jedi. He bit back a sigh and tentatively curled around Kenobi. “You were already not warm enough, weren’t you.”

“I was considering using the Force to adjust,” Ben admitted. “I’ve had worse nights.”

Rex snorted, remembering Kenobi’s often skewed assessments about his own situations. “Lucky for you, clones run hot,” he muttered.

He’d settled in, pleased with getting in the last word, when Ben spoke up again. “I hadn’t known that,” he said, voice quiet enough to not bother Rex if he’d been asleep.

“Engineered for peak efficiency,” he managed around a yawn. Kenobi just hummed a soft acknowledgement, settling down and even perhaps moving in a bit closer.

* * *

Rex woke slowly, his mind already cataloging sensation as “safe.” There was the ever-present gritty scent of sand that had begun to pervade everything after they hit Seelos, but the arms wrapped around him came along with something else...something that seemed to be more reminder than reality.

Plants. Tea. Yeah, that was –

Rex blinked in astonishment, opening his eyes to a small hut he only barely recognized and most certainly was not his quarters, or Cody’s, or the mobile AT-TEs they’d converted.

He was – General _Kenobi_ was – 

Rex wasn’t used to being _held_. It happened, sometimes, when Cody was having a good night’s sleep and they both ended up relaxed. Most of the time, Rex held his brother, providing reassurance that at least one vector of approach was guarded.

Most nights, Cody didn’t sleep well. Too much guilt, too many self-recriminations, no matter how much Rex or any of the medical staff talked him through things.

They didn’t have a sexual relationship: too complicated, too messy, and Cody was flat out uninterested. They were close, though, and shared bunks more often than not. Rex most often ended up holding Cody, because otherwise the two of them would pillbug their way into shoving one or the other off onto the floor. Cody holding him was damn rare.

That made it all the more shocking to wake up to someone’s hold, and that his subconscious could be so comfortable in labeling Kenobi as Not A Threat – well, stupefaction was going to keep Rex from going anywhere. 

Not that he was complaining.

* * *

Rex’s second day on Tatooine started a strangely comfortable pattern. Both he and Kenobi would pretend for a little while to not know the other was awake, then they would untangle themselves and either fight with tea or the generator. Whoever didn’t get to the sonics first ate a ration bar or two, then after swapping off they’d be ready for more than idle conversation. The intricacies of vaporators, the greater system, the bits most likely to break down, the little tricks one learned from constant use and upkeep rather than users’ manuals – that was enough to take them to to lunch. After the heat of the afternoon started to die down, they went to poke the vaporators out in the field instead of the bits and broken pieces Ben had in the hut. Conversation was lighter after dinner, when it existed at all. Mostly, it was the two of them reading datapads together, shoulders occasionally brushing as they perused their different reading material on what might have once been a small couch.

There was no sandstorm or other convenient excuse the second night, but Ben had given Rex a hesitant look with just enough of a raised eyebrow for an invitation.

It _was_ warmer to share, and Rex would admit he didn’t know what to do with feeling quite so...content.

It was so _easy_ to fit into place with one of his Jedi, like back when things were better and he wasn’t living on the constant, trembling edge of failing everything and everyone. The first week passed swiftly, things going so well he should have been more on edge. 

Rex had lived on edge a little too long. It wasn’t making him soft, but it made him careless. It didn’t help that some mornings, he had trouble telling past from present and reality from dreams. 

Almost in the middle of his second week, Rex woke up – sort of – early. His mind was still foggy, there was a nice nip to the air on his face countering the warmth of a body snuggled up in his arms, and it certainly felt far too dreamlike. 

Even back in the day, during the war, he’d never allowed his dreams to go too far. Yet every now and again, he’d allow himself the most mild of fantasies – as he did again. “Morning,” he murmured, ducking his head enough to nuzzle cheeks. 

The sudden intake of breath and the wide eyes riveted on him was as good a wake up call as a Seppie bombardment. Were he younger, Rex would have tried to teleport off the bed and across the room. As it was, he froze, wild-eyed himself and abruptly _very_ aware that this was no dream. He pulled back slowly, trying to keep his heart from leaping out of his mouth. “Uh,” he somehow managed.

“...Do you want to explain yourself?” Ben asked, tone mild and dry as the desert.

For a wild, desperate moment, Rex considered saying no. “I’m sorry, that – that won’t happen again.”

He tried to move away, because it was pretty clear neither of them were going to be getting back to sleep. Ben’s hand alighting on his shoulder stopped Rex cold.

“That’s not what I asked.” Ben’s voice was gentle, his tone strangely cautious. “ _Do_ you want to explain this?”

Curiosity warred against embarrassment. “...What if I say no?” he hedged at last.

“Then...I presume that we’ll badly pretend this didn’t happened, and then never speak of it again. I...would rather if we didn’t take that approach, though.” That funny statement had Rex glancing up, and he was surprised to find Kenobi looked too awkward to meet his eyes. “It – I think we both knew it would not have worked during the war, not with all the requirements upon us, all the _demands_ upon us and the power imbalance, but....” Ben’s gentle hold on Rex’s shoulder tightened a hair, and he finally looked Rex in the eyes. “I think both of us were interested.”

Oh. Oh, _Force_. Rex allowed himself a smile as he relaxed and settled his hand atop Kenobi’s. “‘Are,’” he corrected. “Not just ‘were.’”

Ben’s smile was both relieved and soft. “Then how about we act like two reasonable adults and get some more sleep?” Rex laughed and allowed himself to be tugged back, quietly awed that somehow, snuggling with Kenobi was really happening.

* * *

Rex had initially thought that two weeks was excessive. He was right: it hadn’t taken nearly that long to learn the ins and outs he needed to bring back about vaporators.

It wasn’t nearly enough time to spend with Kenobi. Not much actually changed after their early morning discussion, beyond it being more of a given that they’d be sharing a bed, and a bit more ease between them as they sat closer together in the evenings. They’d seen and endured too much to feel any need to rush...whatever was developing.

Two days before Rex was due to leave, conversation hit a lull as speculation about the future made his departure loom more obviously.

“Come with me,” Rex blurted, impulsive as he rarely was. He and his brothers were in a holding pattern, waiting for tech to catch up, waiting for enough bacta, waiting for a plan a leader _hope_. 

He hated that he might end up putting Ben in the position of leadership again, but it would never be a lonely position again. Rex would make sure of it.

Ben sighed and looked away. “I wish I could,” he whispered. “I cannot.”

“ _Why_?” Rex wouldn’t cross these boundaries, except somewhere between frustration, want, and genuine affection for his friend there was a place where his emotions overcame all good sense and caution. “Who are you protecting!” 

The silence was sharp, painful, and heavy. Rex pulled back, trying not to look stricken for all that he felt like he would do most anything to take the words back. He had meant to say ‘what,’ not ‘who.’ It was a wild unfounded theory, and that hunch had revealed far too much of his own hand.

Kenobi had gone stone faced, distant and measuring. High General. The Negotiator. Jedi Councilor Kenobi. 

It made his heart ache, for so many contradictory reasons. 

Then Ben deflated with a sigh, sagging back in his chair. His voice was soft, almost broken as he asked, “How did you know?”

“I – I didn’t. I guessed. Is it Amidala? Is she somehow alive?” He doubted it, but the notion that they might have some kind of influence over Vader –

That notion died with a quick headshake from Ben. “No. She’s – No.”

Rex nodded, trying to swallow down bitter disappointment. Amidala had been a good person, as well as a friend to all the soldiers. She’d tried hard to do right by them.

“Rex.” The not-quite flat way Kenobi said it jerked Rex’s head up, something uncomfortable shivering down his spine. He couldn’t read anything in the Jedi’s expression. “Why did you think it was Padmé?”

His mouth went dry. He knew what he should say. He knew how to prevaricate. He should have made up some trail of logic that went from how Skywalker and Kenobi had been ‘the team,’ how Skywalker’s affiliation to Amidala was obvious, and since Skywalker was nowhere to be seen, then Kenobi protecting her was not unreasonable.

He said nothing, yet again unable to lie.

“You know who Vader is,” Ben declared, still flat and implacable.

Rex couldn’t tell if he really did flinch at the accusation, or if he mastered the tells enough. Not that it really mattered. He made himself meet Kenobi’s eyes. “...Fox...brought security footage from the Temple.” From the look of grief washing across Kenobi’s face, he knew exactly what Rex spoke of.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to erase the memory of that horrible footage, of his General slaughtering children before kneeling to a fucking _Sith_. His Jedi, so much of his 501st, murderers all. It was one of the reasons Rex wasn’t comfortable in command anymore. The 501st had quite the track record, what with Krell and then Skywalker. _Rex_ had quite the track record. He was happier letting Cody handle matters, because even after everything, Cody wouldn’t freeze under pressure.

Fall apart afterwards, sure, but that was something Rex could handle.

“You do realize I can’t tell you.”

Rex blinked, tracking the conversational thread back. He winced and nodded. “I’m sorry, Ben. I– ” He laughed softly, more wry than bitter. “I wouldn’t expect you to tell me who. That was mostly frustration.”

Gods bless, Kenobi didn’t press. Sure, he gave Rex a long, slow look, but he didn’t ask what the rest of it was.

That respect, of all things, shattered the final holdout of Rex’s wariness. It had been crumbling day by day, standard operating procedure be damned because this was High General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

This was _Ben_.

“Just out of curiosity, would an army be sufficient to guard your charge?” Kenobi gave him a blank look. “Not really more of us than most planetary defense groups, but we’re still the best there is and we’ve got some surprises up our sleeve.”

He didn’t expect it to work, he was just...tired of holding back. To Rex’s astonishment, Kenobi seemed to waver. Then he sighed, eyes closing for a moment.

The Jedi looked old.

“That is tempting. Rather more tempting than you realize, but – it’s too great a risk. Obscurity and making myself the biggest target in the area are the greatest defenses I can muster.”

He said something else, but Rex wasn’t listening.

“What.” Kenobi hesitated, which was not a good sign. Rex had to work to unclench his jaw, because he could not have heard right. “Back up a step. What do you mean, biggest target?” It was surreal and disconcerting, seeing The Negotiator manifest in changes in Ben’s posture. Rex knew those signs, how glib reassurances and rather empty prevarications waited.

That meant he knew he had heard right. “Force and Sith hells, Ben! _That’s_ why you’re going around by Kenobi instead of disappearing with a new name! You’re betting that anyone who comes into the area is going to come after you instead of – WHY?” 

Ben looked so very tired. He didn’t meet Rex’s eyes. “After awhile, one gets very tired of being needed.” Rex sat down hard, almost missing the seat. Still Kenobi wouldn’t look at him. “It’s what we Jedi are for, really, it’s part of who we were, but there’s not really anyone left, and –” He broke off with a sigh, raising a hand to his beard. “You know, I can’t honestly recall a time when I wasn’t needed for some grand cause or another.”

Fuck regaining a General. Rex wanted to kidnap the damnfool bastard and take him to some _family_ and emotional support before he broke entirely. “You do realize that ‘Jedi’ doesn’t translate into ‘self sacrifice’ in even most languages, right?”

Ben’s eyes flicked up, and his smile was heartbreakingly empty. “Yes, well, the rest of the Order is now one with the Force, and one day we shall do the same. In the meantime, we all have our paths to walk, and causes to fight for. I’ve mine, you and your brothers have yours. And if nothing else, I refuse to put you and your brothers in Vader’s path.”

It should have made his blood run cold, hearing it that plainly. Instead it meant that Rex kept pushing. “It – it wouldn’t be the first time we faced him. Still here to talk about it.”

Ben’s jaw clenched as his eyes snapped open. “He came after you?” he said, sounding incensed.

“Not us – Windu.”

He tried to drop it casually, and it was worth the wide-eyed shock. “ _What_? You – I thought he – What _happened_?”

It felt so damn good to admit the truth. “There’s still a few hundred Jedi left. Some of us fought the Order. Some lawyered their way around it. Some just got lucky. They’re in stasis – have been since things went to shit. We tried waking up two of them, at different times. When we thawed Master Windu, within two days Vader was knocking down the doors.”

Ben slumped back, looking like he’d taken one headblow too many. After several false starts, he managed to croak out, “There are others?”

Rex smiled. “And a whole bunch of us to guard them.”

Kenobi’s head bowed for a moment, then he fumbled around to grasp Rex’s hand. “Thank you,” he whispered. He squeezed tight, and when he looked up the smile was genuine. “I’m not sure what to do, but... I think you ought to meet someone before you leave.” Rex squeezed back, returning the smile. “His name is Luke Skywalker.”

That knocked the breath right out of him. Rex knew Skywalker had no siblings that he knew of. Amidala was dead.

Kenobi would never hesitate to throw himself in way of harm coming to a child. He’d ended up with one hell of a mission. Rex nodded, unable to speak for an absurd length of time. “I’d like that.” He took a deep breath, trying to find some emotional equilibrium. “You do realize that no matter what you do, you’re welcome to com or visit us whenever you’d like, right?” 

Ben nodded, still with that smile which looked genuinely happy. “I know.” 


End file.
